When Rita slid into my sleeping bag and pressed her warm, soft, naked flesh against me, I balked.
"I don't think we should do this," I whispered in her ear.
"What do you mean?" she said, her thigh rubbing against mine.
"I just don't think it's wise for us to complicate things like this," I said. "We're neighbors and friends, and if we do this it will irrevocably change our relationship."
"You think so?" she whispered back, obviously furious. She spun herself around in the bag so she was facing me. In the dim light cast by the dying campfire I could see her dark eyes flashing. "You'd better shut up and start listening, then," she ordered. When I opened my mouth to respond, she put a finger to my lips and said, "Shush!" urgently.
We lay there, pressed against one another. My body didn't deny she was an attractive, warm, and very desirable woman. My cock was hardening in spite of my very real concerns about the deterioration of our relationship.
Rita and Mike had invited Janice and I on this camping trip. Camping was never big on our list of activities, but our neighbors had pressed us to go along with them, assuring us we'd have a marvelous time and that they would take care of the mundane details. We'd finally agreed and had been here in the woods of western Arkansas for about fifteen hours. Mike assured us that it was early in the season and we would be alone and undisturbed.
At bedtime, Rita had told me to go get in the bag in my tent. The three of them, Mike, Rita, and my wife, Janice, had stayed by the fire until I'd retired. Eventually, to my surprise, it was Rita who slid in beside me instead of my wife Janice.
There had been innuendo throughout the evening as to the sleeping arrangements. Mike had expressed his appreciation for Janice's charms during our late-night skinny-dipping expedition to the nearby lake. Rita of course, enchanted me. The two were virtually opposites. Rita had a riot of curly dark hair, while Janice had short, smooth, blonde locks. Rita's eyes were black and flashed expressively in the firelight. Janice had beautiful blue eyes. Janice was tall, at 5'8" and statuesque. Rita was much shorter, and strongly configured. Not stout, to be sure, but well formed and tightly muscled. Janice had firm breasts with pointed, pink nipples. Rita's were rounded, with large, dark areolas around her pencil-sized nipples.
What we heard, lying there in the sleeping bag, flesh pressed against flesh, was the slightest hint of a high-pitched moan. The volume increased slightly as time ticked away. Eventually, the voice became clearer and the sounds turned into words. Only one word, actually, repeated time, and time, and time again. The single word, in my wife's voice, "Yes!"
"You hear that?" Rita fumed.
I buried my head in her shoulder and nodded.